


With Your Hands

by infinitevariety (disapparater)



Series: Summer Omens [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Strong Crowley, Summer Omens (Good Omens), soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disapparater/pseuds/infinitevariety
Summary: Aziraphale watches Crowley, and has a silly idea.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Summer Omens [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836280
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	With Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Summer Omens prompt SWEAT and originally posted [here](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/post/624350930844991489/sweat).

Aziraphale drops a paper straw into his glass of iced tea and takes a long sip. He instantly feels better.

Spending all morning hidden away in his stuffy office doing research in August isn’t his favourite past time, and he has been craving a cold drink for hours. He had hoped Crowley would drop by with one at some point, as he often anticipates Aziraphale’s needs. But he’s had no such luck.

Frowning, Aziraphale puts his glass down and looks around. Now he’s thinking about it, where _is_ Crowley?

He wanders to the back door, but the garden looks empty and he hears no angry reprimands being yelled at the shrubbery. He can’t hear the TV in the living room, but he goes to check anyway—no Crowley. Crowley doesn’t usually go for an afternoon nap until about two or three o’clock.

Aziraphale makes his way to the front window to check if the Bentley is there or not when he spots him. Crowley is out in the front garden.

A smile slips easily on to Aziraphale’s face as he stops to watch Crowley. He is kneeling, digging at the ground with a trowel. Crowley pauses to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and Aziraphale can see the sheen of sweat on his face and bare arms.

Aziraphale lets out a light giggle followed by a small, dreamy sigh. Crowley doesn’t need to sweat. He’s _choosing_ to. The small, trivial parts of humanity they decide to part take in at any given time are always Aziraphale’s favourite.

Then Crowley walks across the garden, bends to haul an enormous potted plant into his arms, and Aziraphale actually feels himself swoon.

He knows Crowley’s strong, of course, just as Aziraphale himself is. Neither of them are limited by their human corporations in that regard. But Aziraphale so rarely gets to _see_ Crowley being strong. It’s… quite something.

As Crowley walks back across the garden with the huge piece of greenery, Aziraphale sees beads of sweat trickle down from Crowley’s brow. He bites his lip and lets himself start to sweat a little too.

Shaking himself out of his Crowley-induced stupor, Aziraphale hastens back to the kitchen to make two fresh glasses of ice tea. He carries them out to the front garden and over to Crowley.

“Here you are, my dear,” says Aziraphale as he hands Crowley a glass.

“Thanks, angel.”

Crowley reaches for the glass with one soil-covered hand. He reaches up with the other to wipe his brow again. This time he leaves a steak of dirt behind and Aziraphale feels his knees go weak at the sight.

“What, er, what’s all this for then?” Aziraphale asks as he gestures to the hole in the ground and the now-potless giant plant.

“Thought I’d spruce up the front garden. I’ve mostly focused on the back, so it’s been neglected.”

“And you’re doing it the…” Aziraphale makes sure to lower his voice. “…human way?”

“Can get away with miracles in the back,” says Crowley, speaking just as quietly. “But out front I’ve got nosy Nancy over there.” He nods in the direction of the house across the street.

Aziraphale looks up to see Nancy at her front window, the net curtain pulled back, watching intently. He gives her a small wave and his widest smile. The curtain drops, obscuring her face from view.

“Yes, I can see how that would be an issue.”

“Besides, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.” Crowley holds up the hand not clutching his drink. “Literally. Too many miracles makes the plants weak, anyway.”

“Speaking of weak you are certainly… _not_.”

Crowley looks at Aziraphale, clearly puzzled. “You know that—I’m as strong as you are.”

“Well, yes, but it’s not often I get to _see_ it.”

“How long have you been watching me work out here, angel?” Crowley says with a sly smile.

“Not that long!” cries Aziraphale, feeling a very human blush creep up his cheeks. He should never have let himself sweat, it’s leading to other embarrassing human reactions.

“Any time you want me to move piles of books or pieces of furniture, you just let me know. I don’t mind you watching.” Crowley can’t even say the words with a straight face. He’s laughing brightly by the time he stops speaking.

“Well, actually I—”

Aziraphale clamps his mouth shut before he can finish, but it’s too late. Crowley is focused intently on Aziraphale now.

“You what, angel?”

“Nothing, my dear, not to worry. Have you finished your iced tea?”

“No you don’t.” Crowley pulls his glass back as Aziraphale reaches for it. “What do you want, angel?”

Aziraphale sighs. “It’s silly.”

“Even better.”

Aziraphale shuts his eyes, unable to say it while looking at Crowley.

“I was wondering what it would be like to—to get—” Another big sigh before Aziraphale just blurts it out. “—to get a piggy back!”

There’s silence for a moment and Aziraphale is ready to dash back inside when Crowley speaks.

“Okay.” A glass is placed in Aziraphale’s free hand. “Hop on.”

When Aziraphale opens his eyes he’s holding a glass in each hand and Crowley’s back is turned to him. Crowley’s arms are pulled backwards and he is motioning with his hands.

“Crowley, this is ridic—”

“You’re the one that wants a piggy back. Come on, angel.”

“Fine, fine.”

Feeling foolish, but also a little excited, Aziraphale rests his wrists on Crowley’s shoulders and jumps up. Crowley easily grips the back of Aziraphale’s knees, holding him securely without stumbling.

“Ah!” cries Aziraphale, equal parts fear and excitement. He wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck, being careful with the glasses in his hands.

“Let’s take these glasses through to the kitchen, yeah?”

Without waiting for an answer Crowley marches towards the house, effortlessly carrying Aziraphale with him.

As they pass the front window Aziraphale turns to look out across the road. He sees nosy Nancy with the net curtain pulled back again, looking scandalised. This time Aziraphale laughs and gives her the finger.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
